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Chapter Thirty-Eight: She Bled For Me
Last Updated:
2025-07-09 11:33:20
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SAVING ALPHA THORNE: THE MOONBOUND PACT Chapter Thirty-Nine: When The Dark Stirs
Thorne's POV Darius’s roar cracked like a whip through the hall. “For years after your mother’s death, I had the high matrons shape you. They were handpicked, tasked with softening your edges, breaking the wild in you, turning you into something... respectable. But you spat on all of it. Learned the blood arts behind my back. You rebel, you disobey, and now–” he thrust a trembling finger at Shanura’s bloodied form on the floor. “–you have shamed me before the kings. You interfered in a blood fight. In my pit!” He was no longer speaking. He was seething, his words boiling out of his mouth like venom, blistering the air around him. Shanura lay crumpled on the stone floor, hair matted with sweat, her breathing shallow. Still, her voice came – low, but steady. “I do not regret my actions, father. I take full responsibility.” Those words scorched him. Darius let out a guttural snarl and lashed her again. And again. The whip cracked through the air, slicing her back open in brut
SAVING ALPHA THORNE: THE MOONBOUND PACT Chapter Thirty-Eight: She Bled For Me
Thorne's POV The palace was cloaked in silence. Night had fallen hard, pressing its chill fingers through the stone walls. Outside, the wind howled like a mourning beast. Inside, the lanterns flickered in the draft, casting nervous shadows along the hall.I was kneeling. My legs ached beneath me, blood sluggish in my limbs. Omaru and Nikolai stood at either side, close enough to strike if I so much as flinched. The bruise on my lip pulsed, hot and sharp – an ugly souvenir from earlier. The pain had teeth. It bit deeper with every breath I took. I was weak. Starved. Splintered.But I was still here. Before the throne of the ruthless king of Varkhaal. Darius. And before most of his pack. She knelt ahead of me. Shanura. Head bowed. Her hair hung like a tangled veil across her face like she didn’t want the court to see her, but didn’t care enough to hide. Darius’s voice shattered the quiet. “State your offense before the throne.” “I interfered in the blood pit and saved him,” she sa
SAVING ALPHA THORNE: THE MOONBOUND PACT Chapter Thirty-Seven: Marked For Vanquishment
Ian's POV My foot struck bone. Pain roared up my leg like wildfire, and I staggered back, biting down a scream. I had delivered the kick, but it felt like my own spine had shattered. That was the problem with not having Ashval inside me. I was weak, exposed, breakable. Lazhara’s body twisted midair and landed hard. She rolled like a broken puppet across the arena’s stone floor. A gasp rose from the crowd. Then silence. It was the kind of silence that didn’t breathe. I stood, chest rising and falling, blood thumping like war drums behind my eyes. I had never hated someone this much. Not Brenda. Not Vashti. Not even Kaelric. All I wanted was to kill Lazhara. And I would. I raised my head, eyes sweeping the sea of stunned faces watching from the stands above. The storm in me surged. Something inside me screamed to rise. To speak. I strode toward the edge of the pit, where the shadows of the torches couldn’t touch me, every step sparking like flint against steel. Then I turn
SAVING ALPHA THORNE: THE MOONBOUND PACT Chapter Thirty-Six: The Palace Rat Falls
Ian's POV DUM. DUM. DUM... The drums pounded slowly. Wind howled through the arena like a chorus of spirits, lashing against my face, tugging at my tunic. The moon was full now. Watching. Witnessing.Across the pit, Lazhara stepped forward. She wore obsidian leather stitched with silver bones, her crimson cloak billowing like blood spilled too fast. Spiked cuffs adorned her wrists. Her boots – plated in wolfhide. In the high pavilion, beneath the blackened stone arch, Luna Vashti and Shabari watched from gilded thrones, serpentine calm in their eyes. Between them sat Kaelric, already upon his throne, legs spread like a sovereign bored of mercy. One arm rested on the carved armrest. His silver eyes locked onto me. His head moved, a slow nod of acknowledgement. I turned to face Lazhara. We circled each other, never blinking, a slow dance of death. Her gaze crawled over me. “Tch. You come facing me dressed like that?” I glanced at myself: linen tunic, worn black breeches, leather
SAVING ALPHA THORNE: THE MOONBOUND PACT Chapter Thirty-Five: Bringing Out His Wolf
Ian's POV Morning came and went like a ghost through stone. Now, night reigned, cloaking DuskHowl in its coldest breath. I peered through the narrow window slit, watching the moon cast its pale glow over the arena’s towering spires and bloodstained sands. The light felt ancient, untouched by time. Beneath it, the war drums boomed – steady, thunderous, like the heartbeat of death itself. My own heart thudded in rhythm, wild and breathless. The moon was nearly full. The hour was close. The battle loomed. Outside, DuskHowl roared. The frenzied chants of thousands rose like smoke, thick and electric with bloodlust. Screeches and ululations tore through the air like jagged lightning. The entire castle trembled with anticipation. A cacophony of voices swelled – a savage chorus hungry for violence. I stepped away from the window. My chest heaved. My legs wouldn’t stop pacing, like I could outwalk the fear clinging to my bones. But it stayed. It always did. My heart pulsed with fir
SAVING ALPHA THORNE: THE MOONBOUND PACT Chapter Thirty-Four: Let The Blood Tournament Begin!
Thorne's POV “Roll the gates!!” the tall guard barked, his voice snapping through the corridor like a whip. Two others responded, bracing themselves against the massive wheel. With a guttural heave, they pushed it into motion. The grinding of metal echoed like a death bell, each click of the mechanism louder than the last – until the din outside swallowed it whole. A cacophony surged through the walls. Roars. Cheers. Frenzied chants. War-drums beaten by fists and feet. Voices howled like a feverish cult in worship of blood. The ground trembled beneath my bare feet. Then came pain – sharp and sudden. Omaru yanked my head back by the hair, forcing his face beside mine, his breath foul with fermented meat. “Shaking already, huh?” he sneered. “Feeling the heat?” I didn’t answer. Didn't blink. He released my hair, pushing me forward. I continued walking, my thoughts bouncing off in my mind. What are they planning on doing with me? Why are they taking me to their arena?
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